


In the Attic

by thereisalwaysroom



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017)
Genre: 10 minute challenge, Cmbyn10, Cuddling, M/M, Part of something larger to come..., Unedited (mostly) for the sake of the challenge, because Soft!Oliver is my favorite Oliver, hopefully....soon, this draft is still very clunky for my taste
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 14:04:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14570601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisalwaysroom/pseuds/thereisalwaysroom
Summary: I wanted to melt into his bones. Take his body and slip inside. I wanted to worship and be worshipped, as him. Take my body, useless as a bag of sticks, give it to him to repurpose, whilst I wore him like a cloak - his name, his swagger, his gentle, gentle heart.EDIT: This is now continued in "Ten Days."





	In the Attic

**Author's Note:**

> Blitzed this up before work, this is right after the peach scene (film!universe), where Oliver was comforting Elio in the attic. 
> 
> This fandom is a treasure. I love you all. I am so happy I am here.

Now, he held me. He kissed me. He whispered to me on this same dusty mattress, where less than a full day ago, I kissed Marzia, laid her down and pressed my tongue inside her. I clung to him, skin everywhere, and longed to be closer to him. 

Reading my thoughts, or my movements, or obeying the part of him that was me, Oliver pressed me back with the gentlest of nudges - he could have cast a breath, and I’d have toppled. I was his. Powerless, completely owned.

I was sticky with dried cum and peach juice. He didn’t mind, or didn’t seem to let on that he did. He lay next to me, slid a wide hand over my tummy to my hip, pulled me flush to him. He hooked his top leg between mine, slotted his chin on my shoulder, breath whistling almost imperceptibly through his nose as he kissed a wet line up my jaw to my ear again.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, like a sigh, and a rush of euphoria pooled from my scalp all the way down the back of my neck, and I felt myself go boneless in his arms, both of which were around me this time. Protector. Lover.  _Oliver_.

I could feel him still half-hard against my hip, softening with each breath. I felt a pang of self-loathing -  _you killed the mood, asshole_ , I thought savagely, wanting to slap myself, but he didn’t seem remotely interested in doing anything other than cradling me, kissing my temples, my cheeks, the line of my throat. His top hand rubbed circles over my flanks, the one round my shoulders keeping me tucked close.

We were in deep. I knew. He knew. I wanted to melt into his bones. Take his body and slip inside. I wanted to worship and be worshipped, as him. Take my body, useless as a bag of sticks, give it to him to repurpose, whilst I wore him like a cloak - his name, his swagger, his gentle, gentle heart.

He made a soft noise, kissed my cheek again, snuggled his face against my neck. I cuddled his arm like some childhood toy I was loathe to let go of, stroking over the delicate gold wire of his arm hair, thrown into shining contrast by the late afternoon sun that poured in through the tiny circular window. I felt his lips curve into a smile. I’d stopped crying.

I ran my hand up the length of his top arm, and he nosed my ear. I squirmed, turning to face him properly, and his eyes were cast brighter in the half-light of the attic. He was beautiful like this, unclouded by the dark. His eyes were so, so blue, and I wanted then to dive into those two bright, clear pools, as though doing so would illuminate the rest of him the way nothing else could. 

I kissed him. I did not close my eyes. I think he was expecting a short peck, because I felt him start to draw back, but when I followed, he leaned in - desire looked better on him than even my favorite green suit. He cupped my hip, his bottom arm wrapping around my neck and shoulders, pulling me closer as he was wont to do when the temperature rose between us. I slid a thigh over his hip, rolled on top, nearly taking us both off the mattress. I threw out a hand to steady us, the huff of his laughter breaking us apart momentarily. 

Seeing the affection in his eyes was like being splashed with ice water. It stunned me, gripped me, the world condensed into a sharp point. I relished it, still half-sure he was teasing - I would have, I had, why wouldn’t he? He was a part of me, and I part of him, and yet I know it wasn’t the case. I was enough like him to know, to see the tiny door to his tender heart creaked open, the way it had that afternoon.

 _Do you know how happy I am?_  he’d said, just a boy grown tall in that blue tee and yellow shorts.  _Do you know how happy I am?_


End file.
